by Nitya Iyengar
Screaming at the fading blues,
To turn around and take a look,
At the metamorphosis of my wounded self,
When once I was young, scarred and shook.
Look at me while I chase the storms,
Dive in deep an cut through the oceans,
Of encumbrance I ascend the mountains,
And surf through the tsunamis of deterrence.
The sun awaits the nativity of my metamorphose self,
As I peep through my cocoon to finally give in,
Look at my ravishing self ready to wing,
Eager to take off, conquer and win.
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